toward her sister, guessing
at once that the Indian woman had frightened Frieda.

"Stop," Jack ordered imperiously.

The woman hesitated. Something in Jack's commanding tone impressed her
and at the same instant Jean crawled slowly into sight above the
ravine, swinging a string of trout over her shoulder.

The Giant's Canyon seemed suddenly alive with girls.

Jean gazed at the scene in bewilderment. Jack's hands were clasped
behind her and her head was thrown back in a fashion she had when she
was angry. Frieda was in tears and between the two sisters stood a fat
squaw.

Jack and Jean looked so ready to do battle at a moment's notice, that
the Indian's manner changed.

"I want not to hurt the little Missie," she mumbled. "I try to catch my
own girl. She run away from her good home. She ver' bad." The old
woman's head with its straight black hair, plaited in small braids,
bobbed fiercely up and down and she shook her stick threateningly ahead
of her.

During the whole scene Jack and Jean had had their backs turned to the
hunted girl. Jack was blocking the way of the Indian woman. Only Frieda
had been able to see and through her tears she had discovered that the
girl, who had been lying helpless on the level ground only a few seconds
before, had now vanished completely.

Frieda smiled at Jack's and Jean's puzzled expressions. "Indian girl!
What did the old woman mean?" The two girls looked about. There was no
one in sight. Evidently the squaw had not intended to hurt Frieda and
Jack and Jean were anxious to get rid of her. The next instant the
Indian waddled on, though she, too, had lost sight of the fragile figure
she was pursuing.

Frieda walked over to the fire and stirred it into a blaze without a
word. She winked mysteriously at Jean and Jack, but neither of them had
the faintest idea of what she meant.

"Let's fry the fish, before we go down into the cave," Frieda whispered.
"I don't want the Indian to come along this way and find out where it
is."

Jean and Jack knew that Frieda wished to keep her playhouse a secret
from all the world, so they thought nothing of her odd manner.

Frieda was bending over the glowing ashes, humming softly, with her
cheeks rosy and her two long blonde plaits fairly trembling with
excitement when she noticed the Indian woman coming back toward them.
She was alone. Evidently she had gone on for half a mile or more before
she decided it was useless to hunt any longer.

F